The Nigerian Job
by Akiros
Summary: When Akashi is hired to steal airplane designs for what he believes to be a routine job, he doesn't expect to find a group of people that he can finally call a team. Leverage AU.


_(A/N: I wrote the first 10k words of this in two days. The next 4k took two weeks. This takes place in America, even though literally all the characters are Japanese. Just roll with it. On that note, the discrepancy between the title "Mr." and Kuroko's honorifics is intentional_ — _Kuroko is actually using the Japanese form of address in the English language. Also, I ship AkaKuro. I thought that I would understand AkaFuri by the end of KnB, but I didn't, so hey, don't hate.)_

* * *

"A car should be coming in fifteen minutes to pick you up." Akashi nods his thanks at the bartender as his drink is set down in front of him. The man then leaves without Akashi needing to dismiss him, which the redhead appreciates.

He's settling down to enjoy the beverage for the next quarter of an hour when a voice speaks up from beside him. Turning slightly to eye his interruption with disdain, he discovers that it belongs to a tall, lanky man with black hair and glasses that cover squinting eyes.

"I'm sorry for bothering you, Mr. Akashi, but I know about you." Akashi thinks upon the sinister word choice for the moment it takes the stranger to set down his coat, take the seat next to him—quite presumptuously—and continue. "Ah, I apologize for how strange that sounds. I've read about you." _I wonder if he realizes that his new phrasing is not much of an improvement on the first._

"For instance, I know that when you discovered that stolen Monet painting in Florence, you saved your company twenty, twenty-five million dollars. Or with the identity-theft incident, where you saved your company I don't know how many millions of dollars. I also know that when you needed them..." the man pauses to shake his head and Akashi is already taking note of all the sharp objects within reaching distance. "What happened to your family was—"

"There is a moment in this conversation where I deign to stab you nine or ten times in the neck," Akashi interrupts silkily. "We are approaching it rather quickly."

The black-haired man smiles. "I'm only trying to offer you a job, Mr. Akashi."

"Perhaps you should have led with that," he suggests. "What might this job entail?"

"Do you know anything about airplane design?"

Akashi swirls the liquid in his glass as he answers. "I suppose I could give it a try, if you would be so kind as to lend me a pencil and a ruler," he jests (though he has never _tried_ anything in his life. Succeeding is the only option).

Things become slightly more interesting when the man begins to fidget, clearly broadcasting a fervor that was not present previously. "Someone stole my airplane designs."

"And you would like me to find them," he anticipates, having gone down this vein of conversation many times before.

"No." This statement puts a slight pause in Akashi's hand as it attempts to bring his glass up to his mouth. "I know where they are." The redhead raises an eyebrow and completes the motion of his drink.

"I want you to steal them back."

* * *

 **Kasamatsu Aviation**

 _Four people stop across the street from a tall building, taking in the view. Each carries a bag, though all with vastly different equipment._

 _The sun has just set, casting the street with dark shadows and unforeseen shapes. The streetlights illuminate the diverse hair colors of the group, though surprisingly, the red, green, and blue shades don't catch much attention._

 _Three members of the group begin silently walking briskly across the street while the other turns to the empty building behind him._

 _After he finishes setting up the computer, Akashi turns to watch the building across from him, an anticipatory glint in his eyes._

* * *

"Are you certain that Kasamatsu stole your designs?"

"Look," says the man, whose name Akashi now knows is Imayoshi, "my head engineer, Wakamatsu, went missing. He disappeared with all of my files and a week later, Kasamatsu announces an identical project. I would like to see you explain how that is just a simple coincidence."

"Stealing them back seems like an unwise risk, considering the information that you have given me," Akashi proposes, only to be interrupted by Imayoshi again. He explains to himself in minute detail why stabbing the other man would be detrimental in his situation to keep from reaching for the scissors he keeps in his suit pocket out of habit.

"At the end of this month, I have a particularly important shareholders' meeting. If I show up at the meeting empty-handed after spending a hundred million dollars in R&D, then I. Am. Dead." _Perhaps I can put you out of your misery sooner._

Akashi sighs and shifts, crossing his legs. Having spent most of his morning being baldly coaxed by the businessman, Akashi is nearing the end of his patience. A folder is motioned towards him and he eyes it with disinterest. "Look at the people I've already hired."

Ready for the disappointment that meetings with Imayoshi seem to bring, Akashi's pleasantly surprised when he is greeted with the files of three of the best people in the business. "Do you recognize these names?" asks the other man.

"I have dealt with them in my line of work at least one point in t—" He cuts himself off when one of the files catches his eye. "You have Tetsuya?" He comes close to regretting the mention of the name when he sees the satisfied smirk on Imayoshi's face.

"Is there anyone better?'

"I suppose not, but Tetsuya will be… difficult to work with," he hedges carefully. _Difficult is somewhat of an understatement, considering that the large majority of his employers have never even seen him._

"That's where you come in," Imayoshi says, leaning back in his chair. "What I really need is one honest man to watch them."

Akashi is almost tempted to laugh at the man's naivete.

* * *

 _Light pours from the projector as Akashi finishes connecting the computer to the device. The building's structure's blueprints scroll behind him as blue lines representing foundations are shown on the wall. He turns around as they come to a stop, solidifying into floor plans for the highest level of the building._

* * *

"So, do we have a deal, Mr. Akashi?" He is ready to accept the job, but after seeing the expectant look and subtle smirk, he decides to appear reticent for his own vindictive pleasure.

"The plan will not succeed," Akashi warns. "These people you've hired, they have but one rule for themselves: they work alone. There are no exceptions and you will not be their first."

"Oh, but they will work together. For three hundred thousand dollars each, they will. And for you, for running it, double that. It's completely off the books as well." It's amusing how the man actually believes that any of this is incentive for him. "There's a bonus for you, if you're still hesitant. Kasamatsu Aviation is insured by IYS, your father's insurance company." Akashi dislikes how much he is being surprised by a man who by all means should be just another predictable client.

"I shall hold you to your word, Mr. Imayoshi."

* * *

"Clear comms," Akashi orders as he tucks the communications device into his ear.

" _Akashi, disappointed as I am by this lackluster technology, I believe that I can supply something that will function better than something designed for the 1980's._ " Midorima's snide voice comes through the earpiece, though admittedly with more static than Akashi would like.

"As long as this does not turn out to be something I regret letting you do, Shintarou," Akashi agrees, a slight threat to his tone.

* * *

 **New York City (5 Years Ago)**

 _"They came straight from the airport and up to their room," one security guard explains to the other as they walk briskly down the halls of the hotel._

 _"So you never actually saw any of them, then," the other, taller one asks with a sneer._

 _"But-but the credit card numbers checked out," the first stammers._

 _"Break it down!"_

 _Suited men open the door to the sounds of a TV show about horoscopes being played loudly to a green-haired man, who'd paused it at their abrupt intrusion._

 _"Does that look like Mick Jagger to you?" the taller man asks incredulously._

 _"I do not believe that this is the room you're searching for," Midorima says blandly, unpausing and turning back to his horoscope channel._

* * *

"It's a bone-conduction earpiece microphone," Midorima explains proudly as he passes out the device to a dark-skinned man with dark blue hair and an annoyed expression permanently stuck to his face. "It functions based on the vibrations of your jaw."

Aomine puts it into his ear right as Midorima adds, " _You can hear everything._ " He eyes the taller man with something approaching respect. "You're not as useless as you look."

"I don't even know what you do, Aomine," the hacker replies irritably.

A wide smirk creeps onto Aomine's face.

* * *

 **Belgrade, Serbia (3 Years Ago)**

 _A lone man walks across the bar, drinking deeply from his glass of beer. Stopping at a corner piled with suspicious looking men that other patrons have consciously and subconsciously been avoiding, his lips pull up in a fake smile._

 _"I'm here to collect the merchandise." His words draw the attention of all the men shoved into the little corner, but he's not fazed at all, even as almost every one of them takes out a firearm._

 _Gunshots ring out and a body hits the ground._

 _A sip of beer._

 _Aomine smiles widely and takes the item from the table._

* * *

"May I have one, Midorima-kun?" A voice, slightly tinged by a Japanese accent comes from above. The green-haired man starts at the sky blue head of hair that appears suddenly between him and Aomine. It belongs to an inexpressive man currently folded upside-down on the metal structure above them. The interruption serves to remind Midorima of Kuroko's reputation for being almost invisible and leads him to wonder if it's at all related to the thief's tendency to roost in areas no sane person would check.

"My apologies for not offering it before," Midorima says, reaching up to present the box to Kuroko, who takes one gently and swings back upright to fit it in his ear. He stares at the quiet man (who doesn't notice), trying to determine his value to the operation. A sharp jab to his abdomen snaps him out of his thoughts.

"Wait 'til he finds out you still live with your mom," Aomine snickers. Midorima rolls his eyes at what he assumes is an insult.

He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, replying, "There is nothing shameful in maintaining a respectful relationship with one's parents. This stereotype you seem to associate with me would most likely be more hurtful if they actually applied to any aspect of my life."

Aomine merely snorts. "Keep telling yourself that." He walks over to the hatch door in preparation for the next phase of the plan.

Kuroko serenely ignores the argument beneath him as he gazes down at the city lights, admiring the beautiful view while he has the chance.

* * *

 **Tokyo, Japan (19 Years Ago)**

 _A woman sobs her husband's name as he takes the stuffed bunny from her hands and shakes it in front of his emotionless son, who does his best to fade into the wall behind him. She had taken it from her child in hopes of redirecting her husband's attention to her, but it has no effect on the man's enraged focus._

 _"Did you think I wouldn't find this? You don't get the bunny until you do what I say. So be a good boy," the man threatens, walking away. At the edge of the room, he turns around with a chuckle and a twisted smile. "Or, I don't know. A better thief." The man shakes the bunny in his grasp, taunting the boy._

 _An idea blossoms._

 _A few minutes later, the boy closes the door gently behind him, confident that none of the house's occupants know that he is gone. This will be the first and last time he runs from home._

 _Kuroko allows himself a slight smile as he tugs the bunny in his grasp closer._

* * *

Kuroko studies the contraption before him as he tucks his bright blue hair into a black hat. "I believe the last time I utilized this rig, it was in Paris, 2003."

Aomine casts the line a dubious look, tugging on it for good measure until a glare from Kuroko gets him to stop. "Is this thing safe?"

" _Are you speaking of the Caravaggio, Tetsuya? Were you the one who stole that?_ " Akashi demands. _Interpol never did figure out who the thief was._

"Of course not, Akashi-san," Kuroko replies promptly, face a mask of emotionless innocence.

"It is completely safe, Aomine. Besides, Aquarius is ranked number one today, with Cancer as second. To supplement that difference, I brought my lucky item, a hairclip, and—"

"You are why I work alone," Aomine interrupts, glaring at the green-haired man.

" _Daiki, Shintarou, please pay attention. Tetsuya shall leave on my count and not a second sooner. No freelancing, any of you._ "

"Relax, Akashi," Aomine drawls, lacing his fingers behind his head. "We know what we're doing."

Akashi begins counting down from five. As soon as Akashi utters the syllable "go", Kuroko takes a flying leap off the building, scaring Aomine half to death.

"Holy shit! Do all thieves jump off buildings like that?"

Akashi lifts up his binoculars and tracks Kuroko's progress as he descends down the length of the building, slowing as he reaches his target. This is the part of his plan that poses the greatest amount of potential life-threatening danger and he will not stand for anything going wrong.

* * *

Kuroko ignores the sound of cars below (above?) him with the ease of practice, calmly taking in the details about the building. He spots a small white device in a corner of the ceiling, a glowing green dot signalling its activation. "Vibration detectors are on."

" _Very well. You know what to do, Tetsuya._ "

Kuroko doesn't bother acknowledging the order and gets to work. Carefully drawing a circle on the glass, he lets the tube fall out of his hand in order to reach for the suction cup strapped to his waist. After pulling the circle of glass out, he lets that slip from his grip as well. He once felt guilty about doing that, but after years of attempting to be considerate, he's discovered that it really isn't worth the trouble. Besides, after their impact with the ground, none of it would be recognizable anyway.

He reaches through the newly made hole, setting the remote down on the table. He times the push of the button with his somersault into the office, releasing the clasp that keeps him joined to the line. For his own amusement, he flips twice across the desk, landing on the carpeted ground with not an item out of place.

Glancing furtively around as he peeks out of the office, Kuroko walks silently to a door labeled "Danger: High Voltage," stepping into the wired-filled room it guards, and begins setting up, tugging the uncomfortable hat off of his head.

He bypasses the security system using the method that Midorima explained to him in great detail, first making sure that none of the guards will notice that one of the elevators has been unlocked.

He waits patiently for someone to give the signal.

* * *

Meanwhile, Aomine tosses a black duffel bag down the ladder that leads to the elevator shaft, earning him a glare from Midorima. A line clipped to the bag slows its descent, preventing any potential breakage of its contents, much to the green-haired man's relief.

After dropping the bag on the floor, the two men climb down after it, landing on the top of an elevator marked with a large number four.

"Any time now, Kurok—Whoa!" Aomine's complaint is cut off as he scrambles to maintain his balance on the suddenly moving elevator.

* * *

"They have begun their descent," Kuroko reports diligently, tracking the elevator's movement on his screen. While he may not like the fact that he and Midorima essentially switched roles for his job, he refuses to do anything less than his best.

" _Have you seen any movement in their security, Tetsuya?_ "

He alters the feed on the screen in front of him, observing the men on the screen. "They appear to be clueless." The continued lockdown of all elevators is what should be displayed for the security guards and it shows in the calm actions of the guards.

He switches back to the previous screen in time to see Aomine and Midorima's elevator stop at their destination. "The doors should be open," he announces as he toggles the necessary button.

" _The true show has started,_ " Akashi declares. " _Let us begin._ "

* * *

Aomine tosses the requisite device to the hacker as they round the last corner, setting his bag down as Midorima goes to unlock the door.

Two beeps sound as the hacker plugs in the device to the door. Both men glance around to make sure no one comes tearing down the hallway at the noise.

Midorima raises an eyebrow as the device in his hands begins working. "A ten-digit password?" he mutters, surprised. "The security of this building is impressive."

* * *

" _Do you hear anything on their frequencies?_ "

Kuroko frowns. "I do not. Why?"

" _There are eight men listed on the roster, and yet only four men at the guard post._ "

He squints at the screen but he's still unable to differentiate the men in the room. "I can't tell how many are even in the room, Akashi-san. How are you able to tell who's who?"

" _Count the haircuts._ " A sense of dread mounts in his chest as Kuroko does as he's ordered. _I would have missed that._

" _Problem?_ " Aomine's low growl comes in through the comms. There's a slight moment of silence as Akashi contemplates.

" _Perhaps. Run the cameras, Tetsuya._ "

Feeds from different cameras around the building cycle across the screen, finally reaching one with what they are looking for. "I have found them. They're doing their walk-through an hour early, why—"

" _It's the playoffs tonight._ " He zooms in on the screens in the guard post, and sure enough, a basketball game is running on the corner display. " _They are doing their rounds an hour early in order to watch the fifth game of the playoffs. Where are they?_ "

Kuroko cycles through the feeds again until he's found the group. "They are at the stairwell. Midorima-kun, hurry up."

" _Technology cannot be rushed, Kuroko,_ " the irritated voice of Midorima snarks back.

"And yet here I am, rushing you."

* * *

The head security guard pushes open the wire door, still chatting with his companions about the game being played now while scanning the left side of the hallway for anything amiss when one of the others yells on his right.

"Hey, we got a security breach!" The shout douses him with cold realization and he quickly moves into action.

"Get them on the radio upstairs. Go! Go!"

* * *

" _We must squelch them._ " Kuroko can almost hear the smirk in Akashi's voice and rolls his eyes in the relative safety of his little electrical closet.

He disrupts the radio signal, causing a high-pitched acoustic playback as the security team attempts to contact their comrades. On the camera, those at the guard post merely turn the sound of the radio down, effectively cutting off support to their own people.

Kuroko shakes his head in disappointment.

* * *

" _Daiki, I need you to clear the zone… and use Shintarou as bait._ "

"Finally, something not mind-numbingly boring." Aomine grins as he unzips his constricting vest, already leaving to find an area for ambush.

"I refuse to be used as bait," says Midorima stiffly, still clutching the machine in his hands. There are still six numbers left to go, but he rejects the idea that his technology might have failed him this time. Still, he feels his anxiety increase with every second going by and he continually checks to see if anyone has come around the corner yet.

" _Midorima-kun, they are almost at your location,_ " Kuroko informs him and Midorima sighs angrily, shaking the device in his hands gently.

Five numbers left.

He turns at the sound of guns being cocked, catching sight of four men aiming their guns at him. "Hold it right there," one of them shouts.

Raising his hands in the universal sign of surrender, Midorima catches sight of Aomine coming up behind the guards, quiet as a panther. He watches with morbid fascination as the dark-skinned man systematically incapacitates the group of guards, all without the use of any firearms. Hardly five seconds later, Aomine grins at him, taking the magazine out of the last gun.

" _That's_ what I do."

Midorima nods in reluctant acknowledgement as the door behind him finally chimes and swings open to reveal an entire room of hard drives.

" _You must communicate with me, Daiki, Shintarou. I unfortunately do not possess x-ray vision._ "

"I am stripping the drives as we speak," Midorima says, plugging in a flash drive to the computer as Aomine ties and gags the unconscious guards. Lines of code flash on the screen as various windows open and close. He waits patiently until finally, the computer displays "NO FILES FOUND" in red block letters. "I have obtained the designs and the backup and am leaving nothing behind."

" _Drop the spike,_ " Akashi orders.

The computer's screen flashes as he does that, leaving behind a blank slate.

"Did you give them a virus?" Aomine questions, looking over his shoulder. Midorima huffs at his cluelessness and simply exits the room, not bothering to wait for the other.

" _We have a problem,_ " Kuroko announces. " _The guards that you just rendered unconscious reset the alarms on the roof and all the floors above us. In essence, we are unable to go up._ "

Aomine snorts. "Every man for himself."

"Be my guest," Midorima retorts. "I'm the one with the merchandise."

" _I'm the one with an exit,_ " Kuroko adds.

" _And I am the one with the plan,_ " Akashi interjects smoothly. " _I know that you three don't get along particularly well with others, but it is necessary that you cooperate with each other for precisely seven more minutes. All of you, head to the elevator. Go with the arguing scam, Tetsuya will take care of the bags._ "

The two of them step into the elevator, already beginning to divulge themselves of their suspiciously dark clothes.

"Going to Plan B, now are we?" Aomine teases.

" _Well, technically, this would be Plan D._ "

The elevator dings as the doors open, revealing Kuroko's emotionless face. The thief steps into the small space calmly, beginning to dress himself in the formal attire that Midorima and Aomine are putting the finishing touches to.

"How many plans do we have?" Aomine asks, tightening his tie. "Is there, like, a Plan M?"

" _Of course there is._ " Akashi sounds affronted that they would think any less of him. " _Daiki dies in Plan M._ "

Midorima sends another glare in Aomine's direction as he straightens his collar. "Plan M sounds nice." The dark-skinned man merely rolls his eyes.

The two of them exit the elevator arguing loudly about nothing in particular, Kuroko slipping out quietly behind them. The guard merely huffs and returns to his post, disinterested. Aomine even goes to kick open the glass door angrily, still shouting loudly.

Neither of the guards notice Kuroko tagging along quietly behind the two.

As soon as they exit the building, the two of them quiet down, walking down to the street where a sleek silver car awaits them. Kuroko folds himself gracefully into the passenger seat while Aomine, Midorima, and their bags pile together in the back.

As soon as the doors close, Akashi hits the accelerator and pulls away from curb.

* * *

"I would appreciate it if you were speedier, Shintarou. I am wasting my night," Akashi says, the slightest hint of annoyance touching his tone.

The four of them are gathered at a park located an hour or so away from Kasamatsu Aviation, as Akashi refused to stop anywhere closer. The first rays of the sun have already begun creeping into the sky, tinging the navy sky with softer shades of orange.

Midorima glares at his computer as if that would help it work faster. "There are several Wi-Fi networks, but inadequate bandwidth." The computer chirps soon after he finishes speaking. "The designs have been sent."

"Wonderful. The money will be in your accounts later today."

Kuroko nods in acknowledgement. "I, for one, enjoyed myself," he says tonelessly, a small smile dancing at the edge of his lips.

"Yes, well, there will be no repeat performances," Midorima announces, tucking his computer away.

"I already forgot all your names," Aomine sneers, limbs relaxed and his fingers laced behind his head.

"It was an interesting experience to work together for once," Kuroko adds, shrugging. "It is not often that we will work for the same side."

"And on the same side, we are no longer," Akashi finishes.

The four of them stare at each other for a while longer before all parting in different directions.

* * *

Akashi has just finished fixing himself some breakfast when his phone rings. There is no Caller ID displayed on the screen, so he stares at it for a moment before deciding to answer the call.

"Akashi Seijuurou speaking."

"You've let me down, Mr. Akashi." He stiffens at the accusation, glaring down at his food in lieu of stabbing Imayoshi in the face. "The designs were never sent to me."

"I believe you are mistaken. I personally oversaw them being sent out," he replies, nothing in his voice betraying the homicidal intent that he's feeling.

"I don't know what you saw, but I didn't receive anything. I'm freezing all the payments."

"Let's not be rash," he coaxes, momentarily setting aside his breakfast in favor of pouring himself a cup of coffee. "I can be at your office in less than an hour. We can straighten this out there."

"I would prefer it if we met at at an old airplane facility that my company owns. I will text you the address and we will meet there in one hour." Akashi is left with the dial tone as Imayoshi hangs up immediately. He takes a sip of his coffee, fingers in a white-knuckled grip on the handle of his mug.

 _He will regret ever doubting my ability._

* * *

The redhead skulks through the dark hallways, passing empty shelves and bare tables. The sunlight barely penetrates the windows, casting just enough light into the building for Akashi to make out his surroundings.

"I would appreciate it if you could tell me what happened to the designs, Midorima-kun." Kuroko's calm voice drifts over to him as he makes his last turn. The two of them are standing there, with Kuroko pointing a gun at Midorima. Akashi takes a moment to admire the cold efficiency with which Kuroko wields it.

"What makes you think that I know what happened to them?" Midorima's prim voice doesn't entirely mask his irritation.

"You are the one who sent them. Therefore, the fault most likely rests with you."

"I simply transferred the files. You could have switched them while we were in the elevator."

"Such an atrocious action would not cross my mind."

Akashi's growing tired of their arguing. "Stop."

Midorima's the only one who visibly startles, but Akashi can see the surprise in the way Kuroko stiffens almost imperceptibly, finger twitching on the trigger. _Ah, perhaps I should not have interrupted so suddenly._ "Akashi."

"Shintarou. You seem rather calm, despite the gun pointed at you."

Midorima scoffs. "Kuroko will not shoot."

"Would you like to try me, Midorima-kun? I assure you, I have impeccable aim."

"Tetsuya, I believe we would all breathe easier without you directing the gun at Shintarou." Kuroko casts one last barely-there disgruntled look at Midorima before he holsters the gun with a clearly practiced movement.

Akashi takes this opportunity to inspect Midorima in greater detail. "Are you armed?"

"I don't like guns," the green-haired man mutters, looking away.

The click of another gun's safety has Akashi spinning around, eyes narrowed. Aomine slowly comes closer, his own handgun held expertly. "The money wasn't in my account, Akashi. We had a deal."

Akashi glares at the hitter, who stares back for a moment before tucking his gun away as well. "We did. I believe we were double-crossed. Shintarou, would you come here to get paid?"

The hacker pushes up his glasses with a finger. "No. Consider the transfer of funds and global economy, Akashi." The redhead nods.

"This was supposed to be a walkaway," Aomine grumbles, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I wasn't supposed to ever see you again."

"So the only reason you are all gathered here is because you didn't get paid?" Akashi chuckles. "The only method of gathering us in the same place simultaneously," something dawns on him, something important, "is to tell us that we're not getting paid." _It's a trap._

Without waiting for the others, he turns and runs for the loading dock's door, confident that they'll follow in his footsteps. He hears Kuroko trip behind him, can tell from the panicked shouts that Aomine picked him up.

Quickly flipping the switch in front of him, he turns around for but a moment, making sure that all of them evacuate the building safely. He has a moment to see the flames rushing towards him before the shock wave gets to him.

Then he knows no more.

* * *

Akashi awakes with a gasp, groaning quietly when a metal grip restrains him from leaping off the uncomfortable hospital bed. He tugs on it dully, watching it rattle against the handrails.

"You're not a fan of hospitals, are you?" Crimson eyes flicker over to where Aomine lounges in a chair.

"Not particularly, no."

Midorima's matter-of-fact voice drifts over to them and Akashi looks up, spotting a vent in the wall behind him. "It's about time. The police and firemen arrived at the facility just as we were waking up."

"Where are we?" Akashi asks, loathing the feeling of being left floundering, without knowledge.

Midorima answers promptly. "The county hospital. We were brought here when the local law enforcement responded to the explosion."

Turning his hands over, he notes the black smudges on his fingertips and wrinkles his nose. "I'm assuming we've already been processed."

"They faxed our prints to the state police twenty minutes ago," Aomine confirms.

"How long do we have?"

"Thirty, thirty-five minutes, depending on their software." Akashi can hear the frustration in Midorima's voice. "Unless we can get out of here in the next ten minutes, we're all going to jail."

"Quiet, Shintarou." He begins running potential plans through his mind, rejecting most of them immediately.

Aomine grins from his seat. "I can take these guys."

"Like hell, Aomine-kun." Kuroko finally speaks up. "If you kill anyone, you'll mess up my getaway." _Ah, that one could work._

"Tetsuya, I need you to get me a phone." The silence from the other room tells Akashi that his order's been heard. "I have a plan that results in our combined escape."

"This was supposed to be a one-time deal," Aomine growls, a sneer twisting his face.

Akashi turns to face him, but addresses everyone. "That's your problem. You all have knowledge of your own abilities; however, I know what _all_ of you are capable of. Thus, I have the advantage, as well as the plan."

"I don't trust these people," says Midorima. Akashi could almost swear that the green-haired man is being petulant. He holds back a sigh.

"Do you trust me, Shintarou?" The silence is all the confirmation he needs. "Tetsuya, the phone."

An aggrieved exhale reaches his ears. "This will be unpleasant. Brace yourself, Midorima-kun."

Akashi keeps himself from making a face when he then hears the sounds of retching. _Disgusting, and yet effective._ He can almost imagine the look that must be on Midorima's face right now.

* * *

Kuroko gazes up at the ceiling, waiting for the thermometer in his mouth to beep. As soon as it does, the doctor standing beside his hospital bed takes it, humming in consideration. "The nausea could mean a concussion."

He turns around to hand the device to the nurse standing beside him, so Kuroko takes the opportunity to stare pointedly at Midorima, who is perched on the bed next to him. The hacker rolls his eyes and dutifully sticks his hand in the nurse's pocket. Kuroko himself stole the phone of the policeman standing in the corner as soon as he walked in to uncuff Kuroko for the examination.

"If you feel any more effects or blurred vision, please tell the policeman right away." Kuroko nods at the doctor, hoping the action would reassure the man and make him go away faster.

After the two hospital workers leave, the policeman comes over to reattach his handcuff to the bed. As soon as he slips the key back into his pocket, Kuroko slips his hand in after it and withdraws quickly. The policeman then walks out of the room as well, leaving them alone. _Fools._

Both Midorima and Kuroko hold up their phones to compare, just in case. Thankfully, they're both smartphones, so he clambers up into a carefully balanced standing position, slipping his stolen phone through the vent. "Akashi-san."

When he turns back, he gives the key he stole a little shake and dangles it in front of Midorima to taunt him, laughing internally at the incensed scowl on the green-haired man's face.

He decides to be nice and tosses the bit of metal at the other after a moment of silent gloating.

* * *

Akashi reaches up, resenting his height when he has to work a little harder to grab the phone. When he finally pulls it within his grasp, he turns around in time to catch Aomine stifling a laugh. Glaring at him, Akashi explains stiffly, "We need to give them what they want. Since they're expecting a phone call, that is what they shall receive."

He throws the phone a little too roughly at Aomine, mood slightly lightened when the dark-skinned man has to scramble to catch it.

Aomine dials a number, shooting Akashi dark looks as he does so. When the line picks up, Aomine's face shifts into a facsimile of a smile, voice slightly touched by a southern accent. "This is Detective Lieutenant Carter, from the Illinois State Police. We got those prints you sent us. Problem is, they're sending up all kinds of red flags. I've got someone on the phone for you from the FBI, down there in Washington. Can you hold for me, son?"

* * *

Midorima feels slightly self-conscious at the feeling of taking a picture of himself while someone else is watching, but pushes it down in favor of concentrating on the job. He quickly creates a fake FBI dossier that will hold up to rudimentary investigation. He could do better, but unfortunately, they are pressed for time, and anything more concrete would be unnecessary anyway.

Opening up a webpage that could fax, he types in the number of the hospital, having seen it on various documents and brochures left scattered in the drawers. He attaches the document and breathes a small sigh of relief at the confirmation screen.

* * *

Skillfully catching the phone Aomine throws at him, Akashi raises the device to his ear. "Deputy Burns, this is Deputy Director Macomber, FBI. Is our man alright?"

"I'm sorry, I don't follow." The hesitant voice on the other end of the line irritates him more than usual.

"The man that you have there is one of ours. He's been in deep cover for three years," he explains slowly.

"Seriously?" _Although I realize that your job might not require to you have an astoundingly high IQ, have you not been listening to anything that we've been saying?_

"That is correct. You should be receiving a fax any moment now that contains his information and confirms what I've said." He can hear loud footsteps over the phone, which leads to the rustle of paper. "Most of what I've told you is classified. Can I trust you with this sensitive information?"

"Yes, sir."

He hangs up before he gives in to the urge to laugh at the gullible man.

* * *

Midorima purposefully hits Aomine's head on the police car as he shoves the hitter into it, smirking at the quiet growl he receives in reply. "Walk it off," he suggests helpfully. When Aomine finally gets inside the car, he turns around to salute the two policemen gathered at the curb. _Should I say something?_

"I'm proud of what men like you do," he decides on eventually as he pulls open the door of the car, folding his long limbs into the seat before he or they can say or do something else embarrassing.

He pulls away just as a nurse comes out, saying, "A call for you from the state police."

* * *

Walking into the well-furnished condo, Akashi takes a moment to admire his surroundings. "Four first-class tickets to anywhere other than here," Midorima declares, striding confidently through into the room.

"Who's place is this?" Kuroko asks quietly, also taking in the view.

"Mine," Midorima answers tersely, seating himself at a table of computers next to the wall.

Aomine throws himself onto the couch. "I'm going to beat Imayoshi so bad, even the people that look like him are going to bleed," he announces with a snarl.

"You wouldn't get within a hundred yards. He knows your face," Kuroko retorts, then stops and reconsiders. "He knows _all_ our faces. He tried to kill us."

"More importantly, he didn't pay us," Aomine grumbles, propping his feet up on the table. He ignores the glare that Midorima sends him for the action.

Even without the proper expression to go along with it, the air Kuroko gives off is of someone deeply disturbed. "How is that more important, Aomine-kun?"

"I take that personally," Aomine says, grinning.

"There's something wrong with you."

"Oi!"

"If I may interrupt this scintillating conversation, it looks as if Imayoshi's story is partly true. He is the head of Bering Aerospace, which is a big rival of Kasamatsu Aviation, but—" He pulls up a window of a man talking on CNN, with the caption of "Kasamatsu Aviation".

" _We've lost research that we've been working on for over five years._ " The brunet saying this to the microphones shoved in his face looks belligerent, but also calm at the same time. " _Our servers have been sabotaged. We plan on pursuing the perpetrators to the fullest extent of the law and with all the resources we have at our disposal._ " The video ends there.

"It could be a cover story," Akashi suggests, leaning on a post.

Midorima shakes his head. "I went over the logs of what we stole last night, the internal time stamps on the project. They're very far down into the code and there's no reason to fake those."

"So we didn't steal the plans back?"

"No, we were just stealing them." As opposed to Aomine's unperturbed question, Kuroko almost sounds devastated, even through the impassive front the blue-haired man puts up.

Midorima examines the evidence in front of them, but it doesn't fit together. "Why would Imayoshi lie to us?" At this, Akashi begins walking over to the table, looking at the screens for himself.

"Because you're thieves," he says simply. "If he hired you for a straightforward crime, you would know immediately that he was a bad person, like all of you. You would be suspicious. By doing it like this, you merely saw another citizen, in over his head, and that is why you were unable to predict the betrayal."

"And why didn't you see it coming, huh?"

"I am not a thief."

"Maybe that's the problem." Aomine pushes off from the couch for a confrontation, but Midorima intercepts him halfway.

"Tickets to London, Rome, Paris, and Sao Paulo, all matching the IDs that you gave me," Midorima states, passing out the papers one by one to each of them.

"You're running?" Akashi asks, still looking over the computer screens.

"You got a better idea?" Aomine stuffs the ticket he's given into his pocket.

"No, you misunderstand me." Akashi speaks to the computers, still not turning around. "You're running. Now, from what I understand, that was a high-risk play. Why, you have your leg tied to the stock price like a misguided fool attempting to commit suicide by drowning. You even mentioned that you have a shareholders' meeting coming up." He finally turns around to face the three people still clustered together. "We must not let this man have any time to cool down."

"You want to run a game on this guy?" Aomine asks incredulously. " _You?_ "

"Well, yes," Akashi says, blinking innocently. "This man is greedy and believes that he's smart. He's the best kind of mark."

"What's in it for us?" Surprisingly, it's Kuroko who asks. Akashi eyes him with a piercing stare.

"Payback, and if it goes well, a significant amount of money."

"And what's in it for me?" Midorima steps forward. He makes sure not to smile.

"A significant amount of money, and if it goes well, payback." Akashi knows he's won Midorima over when the other man smiles at him. "Daiki?"

The dark-skinned man grins in response, crossing his hands behind his head again. "I was planning on sending a thousand porno magazines to his office, but hell yeah, count me in."

"Of course Aomine-kun would own so many of that type of magazine."

"Tetsu!" Aomine groans, but turns back to Akashi, still not satisfied. "What's in it for you?"

Silence fills the room. "He used my mother," Akashi answers finally. He pauses momentarily to let the anger that filled him suddenly to simmer into the background. "Let's go get Ryouta," he says, walking to the door, Midorima and Kuroko falling into step behind him naturally.

Aomine stands for a moment, processing Akashi's words. "What the hell's a Ryouta?"

* * *

A handsome blonde man gesticulates enthusiastically on the stage, dressed in a cheesy medieval costume. "This Duncan hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been so clear in his great office, that his virtues will plead like angels—" he throws his hands up into the air in an imitation of wings "—trumpet-tongued, against the deep damnation of his taking off." The blond shakes a fist at the empty air in front of him.

"And pity, like a newborn babe striding in the blast—" Aomine yawns.

"—or heaven's cherubin… upon the sightless couriers of the air—" Midorima doesn't bother to hide his grimace.

"—shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, that tears shall drown in the wind." Even Kuroko can't hide his wince.

"I have no spur to prick the sides of my intent, but only vaulting ambition, which… which…"

Aomine interrupts their viewing, distaste clear on his face. "He's fucking terrible at this."

"Is he touched in the head?" Midorima adds, scowling angrily.

"I must agree, Akashi-san. This is quite possibly the worst actor I've ever seen," Kuroko pipes up.

Akashi smiles. "Patience, everyone. This is not his stage." He ignores the stares he gets from the group, getting up calmly and walking to the exit.

* * *

"I vote no," Aomine says, hands once again folded behind his head. They're standing in a line in front of the alleyway, watching the blonde man step out of the door, who's still rifling through his bag.

"Tetsuya is right," Akashi disagrees serenely. "Imayoshi knows us. And we need a fresh face." He begins applauding, walking forward.

The blonde finally looks up from his bag and stops short at the sight of Akashi coming towards him. "Akashicchi! My only fan," he says cheerfully. Kuroko notes that despite his hair color, the blonde has a barely-there Japanese accent, similar to his own.

* * *

 **Paris, France (7 Years Ago)**

 _A blonde man stands in a room of frames, carefully peeling a painting out of its place. He's hardly finished a corner when the door slams open, revealing a redheaded man calmly aiming a gun at him._

 _"Don't move."_

 _He sets down his knife on the ledge above his head, exchanging it for a gun that he points at the redhead, pulling the trigger quickly. The shot rings out loudly and the blonde begins turning back to his work when a pain blossoms in his shoulder._

 _Gasping involuntarily, he reaches up to clasp the wound, spinning around once more. "Akashicchi…"_

 _Akashi watches impassively as Kise falls to the floor._

* * *

"I'm an honest citizen now," Kise says, bounding up to Akashi. The redhead merely smiles indulgently at him.

"Then it seems our roles have reversed, Ryouta." Akashi waits expectantly for Kise to turn to the people standing behind him, for the reckless grin from before to cross his face again, but he doesn't anticipate the happy shriek that emanates from the man.

"Kurokocchi!" Kise completely abandons Akashi to run over to the stoic thief, wrapping his limbs around the smaller man in a manner reminiscent of an octopus. "He was my mentor," he explains briefly, rubbing his cheek on sky blue locks ("Please let go of me, Kise-kun. I can't breathe."). After a dumbfounded moment of silence, Kise releases Kuroko, who quickly retreats behind Aomine.

"I'm in," Kise announces, eyes glittering in the dim light of the street lamps.

Akashi allows himself a smile at his success, clapping once to get the group's—no, _his team's_ — attention. "Let's go break the law one more time, shall we?"

* * *

"Imayoshi Shouichi: Executive Vice President, in charge of new technology development at Bering Aerospace. He has a rich father, a trust fund, Yale MBA, et cetera." Midorima clicks through his slides, rolling his eyes when Aomine squeezes past him with a bowl of popcorn.

They're all seated around the low table in front of the TV, dinner—graciously cooked by Akashi—set in front of them. The redhead is perched on the arm of the couch, next to an irate Kuroko staring melodramatically into space. The Kise he has hanging off of his arm as if he would never let go is most likely the cause. Aomine is crowded between the blonde and Midorima, looking vastly irritated as he tosses kernels of popcorn into his mouth.

"Bering is in charge of the government contracts, Department of Defense research, and other various classified materials," Midorima continues.

"Can we use that?" Kuroko asks, stealing a handful from Aomine.

Midorima shakes his head. "Not likely. Imayoshi is in charge of their commercial airline business."

"Shintarou, when we stole the designs for Imayoshi, we were instructed not to make any copies," says Akashi, staring at the hacker.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Akashi," Midorima replies, face perfectly blank. "That would be a breach of contract."

"Show me your copies." The two looked at each other unblinkingly before Midorima relents, changing the slide again. This time, it consists of blueprints.

"It's an airplane," Aomine says, stating the obvious.

"It's a short-haul domestic airliner," Akashi clarifies, studying the prints on the screen. "Typically in charge of short, hour flights, it's the fastest-growing segment of the industry. It's fuel efficient, high tech. It has a very nice carbon nose as well. Titanium wrap, 3:1." He smirks at all the stares he's getting. "I pick things up here and there."

"You pick up a _lot_ of stuff," Aomine mutters, drawing a cackle out of Kise.

Midorima eyes Akashi for another moment before starting again. "Imayoshi and Kasamatsu were competing for the lead for five year in an industry that's worth quite a lot of money."

"Like eleventy billion dollars," Kise pipes up. Everyone ignores him.

"Kasamatsu-san achieved the goal first and Imayoshi took the shortcut," Kuroko adds, narrowing his eyes.

Akashi gets up to pace slowly behind them. "So Imayoshi has a rival that angers him so much, he would hire us to steal the designs for him. This is good."

"What do you propose, Akashi-san?" Kuroko tips his head back to keep track of Akashi's progress as he walks along the length of the couch. The redhead reaches over to gently pat the blue locks.

"Nigerians should do nicely."

("Does anything he say ever make any sense," Aomine asks no one, polishing off the rest of the popcorn."

"You look like a chipmunk, Aomine-kun."

"Shut up, Tetsu.")

* * *

"Your nine o'clock is here," the secretary says. Midorima watches disinterestedly as Imayoshi swings around catching sight of Kise sitting patiently in the chair behind him.

Earlier, Kise had dyed his eye-catching blond hair into a more muted, dark brown shade. It was as if he were watching a stranger, seeing the usually cheerful, exuberant blonde as a calculating, unruffled brunet, but no less handsome.

Kise stands up from his chair, offering his business guard in the same motion. "Mr. Imayoshi," he said with a charming smile. Midorima was startled to hear a smooth, African accent emerge from Kise's mouth. "Aaron Gunstott, with African Commercial Transport and Trade Initiative."

"I must admit that I don't expect much," Midorima informed the man standing behind him.

"Patience," Akashi assured, repeating his words from a few nights ago.

"Are you government?" Imayoshi asks, heading into his office. Kise takes that as an invitation to follow.

"No, no. Private business consortium. We are looking to encourage infrastructure development and economic renewal."

Imayoshi laughs. "Could you say that to me again in English?" Kise chuckles lightly.

"We create jobs and trade in Africa," Kise says with a smile. "Keep the graft and stealing manageable."

Midorima is reluctantly impressed by the performance. " _This_ is his stage," Akashi says knowingly. "Kise Ryouta is the finest actor you'll ever see… when he's breaking the law."

The black-haired businessman outright laughs at this statement. "'Keep the graft and stealing manageable,' you say. Good luck. I'm not sure I'm the one you should be looking to, Mr. Gunstott."

Kise chuckles again and begins walking from the office. "Why don't we talk somewhere a little less formal, hm?"

"Kise, what are you doing?" Midorima hisses into his comm.

Imayoshi flounders quietly for a moment before following him out of the room. "Mr. Gunstott?" He calls out to the brunet, but Kise just smiles and continues out into the hallway. Midorima is dumbfounded when Imayoshi trades a confused look with his secretary before following Kise instead of just returning to his office.

"Now, Shintarou." He's suddenly reminded of his task and hurries to hack into the network of the company's computers, substituting the secretary's background for a blue error screen.

"No, no, no," the secretary whimpers on screen. He hits several keys that Midorima could tell, even with grainy resolution of the security camera feed he was channelling onto his screen, would never help him in this situation. Finally, the secretary sighs and picks up the phone.

("No, I am not playing the IT guy _or_ doing any sort of accent, Akashi-san. Even if it's you who asks me to do it. I refuse."

"Tetsuya."

"Akashi-san."

"Tetsuya."

"Akashi-san."

…

"Tetsuya."

"Akashi-san."

"...Shintarou."

"Fine, but I refuse to do an accent as well."

"Why must all of you ruin my fun?")

"Hello, you have reached IT," Midorima answers smoothly, regardless of the grimace twisting his face at the menial job.

" _I'm sorry for bothering you, but my computer just completely crashed,_ " the secretary says softly, tugging at his brown hair.

"And _I'm_ sorry to hear that. Have you tried to turn it off and back on again?"

" _I have. I'm sorry, but nothing seems to be working._ " _Why is he apologizing to me?_

"Which office are you in?"

" _Sorry for not tell you before, I'm sorry, I'm so—_ "

Midorima cuts in before he can get any more annoyed by the apologies flowing out of the secretary's mouth. "Could you please just let me know what office you're in?"

" _I'm sorry for apologizing so much,_ " the secretary whispers and Midorima almost feels guilty for doing this to him. Almost. " _This is Imayoshi Shouichi's office._ "

"We have someone on your floor already," he says finally, hanging up almost immediately. He keep an eye on the monitor for a moment longer, watching as a mop of dark blue hair enters the office.

" _Someone call for IT?_ "

* * *

"I represent a group of investors who are looking to start an airline for short-haul flights in Africa," Kise explains as he slides a fingertip along the railing. He makes sure to keep his gaze off of Imayoshi, subtly establishing the other as the dominant person in this conversation, despite Kise's role presenting the offer.

 _'When the other person is used to being in a position of power, be the deferent one in the exchange and the other person will be more likely to indulge you. People subconsciously treat men differently, so you have to be able to use that to your advantage, create trust. Push when you think you have the upper hand, and not a moment before,'_ Kuroko once told him, and he uses it here. The move to get Imayoshi out of his office was risky enough, and he doesn't want to mess anything up.

"Out of Johannesburg?"

" _He's testing you, Ryouta. Bloemfontein._ " Kise thanks the heavens that they practiced this slightly beforehand, otherwise he would have no idea what the word that just came out of Akashi's mouth meant. _Bloemfontein, judicial capital of South Africa, got it._

"We want to keep away from the hubs, revitalize the regional airports," he informs Imayoshi. "Bloemfontein in South Africa, for example." He turns his head in the business man's direction, but only speaks to his shoulder. "But it's Nigeria we're really focused on."

" _Perfect._ " He carefully tucks away the grin that threatens to burst out at the praise.

"I must admit, Lagos airport runways are a mess," Imayoshi says slowly and Kise can tell that he's warming up to the idea.

"I believe new airways will help people feel more comfortable while we renew old runways," Kise agrees.

"I don't recall saying anything about new airplanes." If this were when he first started doing this professionally, Kise would be freaking out at that statement, but now he can hear the amusement curling through Imayoshi's voice, knows that he's already caught the businessman.

"Mr. Imayoshi, we both know you and your chief engineer are scheduled to speak at your shareholders' meeting," he teases lightly, still walking slowly down the stairs. _How long do these go on?! I feel like I've been walking forever._

"I think you know more about my business that I do," Imayoshi replies with a grin, no tenseness at all.

 _Hook, line, and sinker._

* * *

Kuroko peers out of the open ceiling tile, relieved to get a breath of relatively fresh air after crawling in vents for so long. _No matter how easy movies manage to make it look, it's definitely more taxing than it needs to be,_ he thinks with a huff.

He lowers himself onto the black leather couch conveniently below him, absentmindedly listening to Aomine slowly charm the jumpy secretary.

" _Shouldn't_ I _be doing that?_ "

"You must admit, Aomine-kun is much better than you at talking to people." Kuroko can't resist replying as he steps into Imayoshi's office.

" _I have to agree, Shintarou. I would also much rather have you in charge of the_ actual _computers._ "

Kuroko sits himself in the desk chair, pulling out a hard drive from the pouch at his hip and plugging it into the computer. He accesses the file explorer of the computer and pulls out a flashing bug from another pouch on his hip while Midorima and the hard drive take care of the rest.

Bending under the desk, he places the bug in a moderately difficult to spot place, setting it against the metal beam supporting the surface of the desk. He returns to an upright position as the last of the files on the screen are emptied.

* * *

Aomine isn't exactly sure what he's doing, but he follows Midorima's instructions, rebooting the computer. Once the screen returns to normal, he turns to the secretary What's-His-Face, grinning. "There you go."

"Th-thank you. Sorry for making you come down here," the secretary apologizes again, a slight blush creeping onto his face.

"It was no problem at all," he replies, straightening up from his crouch. He flashes another smile at the brunet, laughing internally as the blush on the smaller man's face intensifies. _So easy._

* * *

Kuroko unplugs the hard drive from the computer, returning it to its former state. Quietly walking out of the office, he steps back onto the black leather chair, rolling his eyes at the lines Aomine's spouting.

"Your eyes are really pretty, you know," the dark-skinned man says as Kuroko grasps the sides of the hole in the ceiling.

The secretary stammers his thanks as Kuroko moves the ceiling tile back in place. He sighs and stares at the long stretch of surface ahead of him, mentally preparing himself for another long trip.

* * *

"Mr. Gunstott—"

"Aaron" Kise interrupts. "Please call me Aaron"

"Aaron" Imayoshi repeats, smiling indulgently. "If we announce a new project, then you can order as many as your little heart desires."

" _You know what to do, Ryouta._ "

He shifts minutely forward, propping his elbow on the railing behind him. _I wonder if I could fall over the edge like this._ "We'd also like to build the planes. More jobs," he explains, gesturing a bit. "Build them in Africa, fly them in Africa. Sell the rest around the world." He sends a charming smile in Imayoshi's direction.

"That's quite ambitious of you. Do you have the manufacturing facilities to do all that?"

Kise waves off his concerns with a lazy hand. "Ah, we can easily raise the money to build the facilities…" He turns to face Imayoshi, looks the man in the eye for the first time since they began talking. "If we know for certain we're going to get the contracts."

Imayoshi pauses. "Aaron, I'm really sorry, but I can't help you."

" _This was a waste of time._ " _Wait for it, Midorimacchi…_

"And I really do have—"

"I understand," Kise says, talking over the man. "I'll take it to Kasamatsu Aviation, then." _'Unsettle them, surprise them when things aren't going their way. If you've already made them comfortable, presented them something that they can cling to when things go wrong, they'll agree to what you're saying much faster than if you acquiesce immediately. Make them crawl back to you.'_

"Kasama—sure, if you think that's the best choice of action. I don't think they can help you, but—"

"They have a reputation for long-term investment. You don't," Kise says, interrupting Imayoshi again. "They're innovators. In fact, I think they're a better fit." He smiles at the man again, but this time he makes sure to add teeth.

Imayoshi smiles back, but Kise can tell that he's unnerving the businessman. "I'm aware that you're manipulating me, Aaron."

Kise laughs. "I should hope so!" He leans closer, drops his voice by a few pitches. "Millions of dollars in new contracts, lots of good press—right at your door." Imayoshi takes a small step back and Kise crows with victory internally.

"Okay, I give up, I'll take the meeting." Imayoshi's laugh is tinged with an edge of discomfort and he raises his hands in surrender. The black-haired man sticks out a hand, but Kise easily ignores it.

"I'll have my office call you," he says brightly, already starting to walk away. He turns back in time to see a minute but hilarious look of confusion cross Imayoshi's face.

"Alright."

"Day after tomorrow?"

"I look forward to doing business with you."

Kise walks away from Imayoshi to the smooth sound of Akashi chuckling in his ear.

* * *

Night has fallen and the five of them were at Midorima's condo, entertaining themselves with various items. Akashi looks over in Midorima's direction when he name is called, going over when he beckons. "I obtained his financials off of his hard drive, as well as his passwords." They're both quiet for a moment as they look over the information before Akashi straightens up.

"Good job, Shintarou," he praises, walking back to his game of chess with Kuroko. The thief is somewhat above average and not particularly exceptional at the game, but Akashi appreciates the nostalgia and sentiment of the game more than the taste of victory.

He's just moved a bishop when Kuroko speaks for the first time since they started playing. "Akashi-san looks better now. Compared to when we first started," he clarifies after Akashi gives him a questioning look. He frowns at the observation, which Kuroko catches as well. "Does it bother you?"

"That I take comfort among thieves? Not particularly."

They fall into silence yet again. Akashi's had another three turns and is about to call check when Kuroko speaks up again. "I'm sorry about your mother."

His hand clenches reflexively and Akashi has to work to release the tension from his body. "You don't know what you speak of, Tetsuya." Kuroko surprises him by shaking his head.

"People take notice when someone like you disappears, Akashi-san. Especially when it's a story like yours." He watches as Kuroko picks up his glass king, rubbing the divots gently. "Could you explain to me how your father justified the denial of treatment to your mother?"

* * *

 _White walls._

 _The smell of antiseptic._

 _Background chatter, as doctors and patients alike call for nurses._

 _A faint noise comes through the door in front of him._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _The sound is irritating, and yet reassuring, because as long as it maintains its rhythm..._

 _Akashi presses his hand against the glass window of the door, ignoring the smudges it leaves behind on the otherwise pristine surface. His face is just far enough from the door so that his breath doesn't fog up the material, but near enough so that he could be as close as possible to the occupant of the room._

 _He can't hear what his father is saying to the doctor as many other people rush about, attaching wires to the body on the bed, inserting even more needles. Anything to keep the figure lying motionless on the bed alive._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Eventually, his father gives a sharp nod to the man in the white doctor's coat, and then an even sharper order when it looks like the man is about to argue._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _The frantic motion in the room comes to a standstill. Some of the people even stare at the severe-looking looking over the hospital bed with a blank look on his face. Akashi's lip-reading still needs practice, but he knows enough to make out what his father says next._

 _"Goodbye."_

 _The sound is no more._

* * *

"He did not want to use any experimental drugs with my mother, and that was all the doctors had yet to try," Akashi says monotonously, taking a page out of Kuroko's book. The numbness that had taken over for some time after his mother's death begins encroaching on his senses again, filling his ears with white noise.

"So—"

"Tetsuya." His voice is as hard and sharp as diamonds, and even the ever-defiant Kuroko knows not to tread any further. "Drop it."

The thief bows his head. "My apologies," he says, getting up from his seat. Kuroko takes his leave quietly, leaving Akashi alone to stew in his thoughts.

* * *

Akashi watches as Imayoshi gets out of his car, seated at a chilly metal table that hasn't warmed up yet. Midorima is seated across from him, a newspaper propped open in his grasp. Coincidentally, it happened to be his lucky item for the day. "Ryouta, he's arrived."

" _What?_ " Kise's reply is undoubtedly panicked. Akashi can hear the faint murmurings of conversation through the earpiece. " _No, no, I'm not ready._ "

"If you do not hurry, Imayoshi will search for our company in the building directory. _We are not in the building directory._ "

" _Why are we not in the building directory, Midorima-kun?_ "

"Perhaps it's due to the fact that they're _fake_ offices, or have you forgotten somehow?" Midorima glares at the paper in front of him as if it were Kuroko himself.

After a moment of tense silence, Kise's voice once again comes through the comms, noticeably more flustered. " _There's no elevator._ "

Akashi sighs before getting up, walking towards the front of the building. "I'll distract him. Tetsuya, you have ten seconds to get Ryouta to the lobby."

* * *

Kuroko leans out of the stairwell entrance, spotting Kise anxiously pacing a small distance away from him. "Kise-kun." The brunet's head jerks up at his soft hiss, quickly walking over.

"What's going on, Kurokocchi?" Wordlessly, Kuroko tosses him a harness, pulling the confused grifter into the stairwell. "What's this for?"

"Speed, Kise-kun."

Aomine, finally finished with his tedious climb up the stairs, brushes past them with a plastic sign and duffel bag to take care of the job of replacing the company signs.

* * *

Akashi walks calmly along the curb of the street, choosing an area that has several cars parked in a row, just a few yards across from the entrance of their targeted building. Pulling a baton out of his pocket and extending it with a quick flip of his wrist, he takes a moment to appreciate the obliviousness of the pedestrians.

 _Crash!_ goes the first window. Akashi smiles with satisfaction at the activated alarm, but a quick glance at the windows shows that it lacks Imayoshi. He moves on to the next car. The racket is rather unpleasant at this point, but he can still see Imayoshi walking away from the doors. After the third window goes, he already knows he doesn't need to try a fourth. _That should stall him for just long enough._

He smirks to himself, tucking the baton back into his pocket and moving on from the site of the disruption nonchalantly.

* * *

Kise watches in apprehension as Kuroko leans over the edge of the staircase, craning his neck to look up at where the line presumably is connected to something sturdy. When the check proves adequate, Kuroko grabs Kise's harness and clips it on first.

He creeps over to the railing, peering over the side only to immediately retreat to the relative safety of the wall. "Why don't you go on without me, Kurokocchi?" he suggests weakly as the pale thief clips his own harness into place.

"Don't worry, Kise-kun. You probably won't die," Kuroko reassures in his flat voice.

"Why do you have to go and add 'probably'?!"

* * *

Kise steps out of the stairwell out of breath from screaming on the way down. He's greeted by the harsh sounds of car alarms and the aghast shouts of people crowded around the glass doors. _Oh, so that's what Akashicchi did._

Spotting Imayoshi typing on the directory, Kise quickly makes his way over, flashing a quick smile at the man. "Our offices are on the tenth floor," he says, gesturing towards the elevators. This time, he makes sure to put Imayoshi slightly ahead of him as they walk, reestablishing Imayoshi's role.

As the elevator doors close, Kise inhales sharply, as if he's about to broach a sensitive topic. "One thing—the gentlemen bringing you the opportunity to work with their government, they'll, ah, expect some compensation. Not a bribe, of course."

Imayoshi shoots him an amused glance. "A finder's fee."

"Exactly."

"I thought your job was to eliminate graft and stealing." _Oh, how far from the truth you are, Mr. Imayoshi._

"No, not quite. My job is to keep it manageable."

The elevator's ding announces their arrival. Kise leads Imayoshi to a conference room with glass walls, holding the door open for him. He expertly hides a laugh as the leader of the Nigerian group grasps Imayoshi's hands, stifles a smile at how startled the businessman seems.

"Mr. Imayoshi, we are honored by your presence."

"The honor is entirely mine. Participating in the beginnings of something like this—it's quite the opportunity."

* * *

Kuroko inhales deeply as he sets down his bag besides his chair, crossing his ankles and leaning back to catch his breath.

"Well done with the zipline," Akashi says, a smile quirking his lips. Kuroko, very carefully, does not let the praise affect him.

"Kise-kun is lucky he did not break a leg with the way he was flailing around," Kuroko replies. He can almost envision the grifter puffing up his cheeks at him in a pout. "How is he doing?"

Akashi tunes back into the conversation. "It's drawing to a close."

* * *

"Yes. Absolutely," the Nigerian man says, looking up from the table. "We can definitely repurpose those factories."

"Great," Imayoshi replies, grinning.

"I believe we will be able to do a lot of business together, sir."

"About the… the other matter," Kise speaks up, doodling circles on the table with the tip of a finger.

"Of course." Kise glances at Imayoshi briefly as if looking for permission before standing up to walk to the other end of the conference table. He takes the envelope that the Nigerian official carefully sets on the table and walks back over to Imayoshi's side of the table. The businessman opens the envelope that Kise hands him, drawing out a small sheet of paper.

He glances at the slip of paper out of the corner of his eye, though he already knows what it says. It's no wonder why Imayoshi's eyes widen at the number. _One million dollars… If only it were true, hm?_ "Is that agreeable?" he asks.

"Oh, I think we can work something out," the black-haired man says with a smirk, tucking the envelope into his own suit jacket.

"Excellent."

* * *

Akashi walks up behind Kise after Imayoshi rides off in his car. "I trust that you were successful in your endeavour?"

"Of course, Akashicchi!" Kise exclaims brightly, back to his old self. He immediately attaches himself to Kuroko's side like a limpet, drawing an angry glare from Aomine.

"Let's get going. We have an eventful day tomorrow." Akashi begins walking towards their own car, parked a few blocks away from the building.

"This'll work, right?"

"I guarantee it," Akashi reassures Aomine.

* * *

"This is insane, we're risking everything," Wakamatsu growls as he follows Imayoshi into his office. Imayoshi just rolls his eyes, not bothering to ask the other to shut up when he wouldn't listen anyway. "We already took a chance by stealing the plans!"

Dragging the sandy blonde engineer to the ground by the collar of his shirt, Imayoshi takes a flashlight out of his pocket and shines it on the bug he discovered recently. He gestures silently, beckoning the other out of his office.

"What is that?"

Imayoshi makes sure his door is closed before answering. "It's a transmitter. They've been listening to everything I've been saying."

"Who are 'they'?" The anger in Wakamatsu's voice has died down to a simmering confusion.

Imayoshi draws a black and white photograph out of his pocket. "Who do you think? Also, I've checked," he says, tucking it back into the pocket. "There is no office for the African Commercial Trade Initiative anywhere in this city. They've been hustling me, and trust me, I know exactly what they're doing. Tomorrow, it'll stop. Get the FBI on the phone," he orders.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"You're sure you know what they're doing?" Wakamatsu asks for the nth time the next day.

"Yes. They're angry at what we did. They want to make me pay," Imayoshi explains as they walk between waiters and high tables with white tablecloths. "An opportunity like this in the same week as the shareholders meeting? Please," he scoffs.

"The bugs, the fake offices, cash bribes—it's almost like those email scams with Nigerian bank fraud letters," he muses, turning around to face Wakamatsu, who has a dubious expression on his face. "Do they think I'm some dog that they can lead around?

"They're going to find out exactly how wrong they are."

* * *

Akashi watches as the four other members of his team stuff packaged uniforms into their bags, zipping them up quickly. Aomine and Midorima grab the bags and they all file out of the room quietly.

They walk briskly down the stairs with hardly a word spoken between them and Akashi can tell that they've grasped the gravitas of the situation. He holds the door open for Kuroko, who finishes descending a moment after he does, and they exchange a glance of understanding.

 _Good luck. Not that you'll need it._

* * *

"It's a good day for you," booms a heavy-framed man. His giant hand almost looks like it could crush the delicate stem of the champagne glass he holds.

Okamura Kenichi is the lawyer in charge of fielding any lawsuits for any damage potentially done by Bering Aerospace products. Imayoshi had never seen him in action and the cheerful and loud man didn't seem like much, but he was supposedly very good at his job.

"Yes, stock's risen fifteen points since the announcement," says Imayoshi.

"Really? Well, I'll pass it around then," Okamura says, tilting his glass at Imayoshi. He mirrors the gesture, sipping from the glass after the large man leaves.

"Well, aren't you the cat that ate the canary." He turns around at the familiar African accent. Aaron—if that's even his real name—stands there, smiling innocently in his suit. _I know your secret now._

"Does it show?" he asks in jest.

"Horrible poker face." _Unlike you, hm?_

"Ah." He catches sight of the Nigerians over the brunet's shoulder, in a group on their own and chatting amongst themselves. "Why do we care of this now?" he says, flicking his head minutely in the direction of the building so his motive isn't mistaken.

"Now?" He feels a spark of triumph at the blatant surprise in Aaron's voice, and there's no suspicion in the tone. "You have the full payment?"

"Absolutely," he says, grinning. "We can wrap this up quickly in a conference room, get even bigger headlines." He shoos the brunet away when the other stands in shock for a moment.

"Alright then," Aaron replies hesitantly, walking back to talk to the Nigerians. Imayoshi rewards himself with a sip of his drink.

 _I've got you now._

* * *

"Everyone, please make yourselves comfortable," Imayoshi says as he leads the congregation into his conference room. He runs a hand over the backs of the chairs as he walks to his end of the table, watching as the men file in and take their seats.

"I assume we all understand the terms of this agreement," the head of the Nigerian group says, looking straight at him.

"Well, the exact _terms_ of the agreement," he drawls, leaning over to the phone near his seat, "are these." He presses the button that he knows will bring the officers.

"FBI, don't move," shouts a blonde agent as they begin walking into the conference room. Imayoshi nearly sighs at how cliche this seems.

"Are you alright, sir?" asks another as he comes up behind Imayoshi.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Yes, of course." He thinks it's rather strange that the Nigerian official would answer as well, but he chalks it up to a cultural ignorance of the procedures.

But then a group of the FBI agents surround him and he starts panicking slightly (barely, not at all really) when two of them grab both of his arms. "Gentlemen!" he says with a strained laugh, not-so-subtly tugging his body out of their grasp. No one looks amused. "You're looking at the wrong person." He gestures weakly at the rest of the group. "The criminals are over there. This is all just a misunderstanding—I spoke to a Special Agent Higgins on the phone—"

The man in front of him holds up his badge. " _I'm_ Special Agent Higgins. Imayoshi Shouichi, you're under arrest for soliciting a bribe from these Nigerian government officials." The head of the Nigerian group begins walking over to them and Imayoshi really does start panicking.

"These men aren't even Nigerians," he says. "I didn't—"

"Of course we are," the Nigerian man interrupts, holding up a genuine Nigerian passport. _Oh._ "Your worker knew that when he contacted us last week."

"My worker? Aaron?" He looks over to the other side of the room, but doesn't see the brunet who _definitely_ walked into the room with them. "Aaron!" Unfortunately, no one magically appears. Imayoshi exhales sharply, turning back to the FBI agents. "Aaron Gunstott works for them."

"Ridiculous!" Everyone's attention switches back to the Nigerians. "He contacted us on your behalf."

"He told us he worked directly under you," another official adds.

* * *

 _Kise shakes the Nigerian official's hand, offering a business card. "Aaron Gunstott from Bering Aerospace." He would be ashamed that his cover identity worked for an organization that would steal designs in order to get the upper hand on its rival, but that would be a bit like calling the kettle black. "Directly under Imayoshi Shoichi."_

* * *

"But he took me to their offices," he says slowly, still trying to unravel the intricate threads of this apparent plot to take him down.

"We do not have an office in this city," the Nigerian official counters. "We met her at your other office."

* * *

 _The elevator bell dings just as Aomine puts the last screw in. He steps back to check that the sign with Bering Aerospace's logo isn't horribly crooked or off center. Glancing behind him to make sure that no one saw him replace the sign, he curses mentally when he hears the voices of the Nigerian officials coming down the hall._

 _After ducking into the stairwell, his quietly relieved chuckles echo off of the concrete walls. Aomine pokes his head out of the door just long enough to see Kise the Brunet greet the men with a suave smile and smooth handshake._

* * *

Aaron's web of lies is becoming clearer to Imayoshi by the second, but his eyes widen when he realizes there's a concern that he hadn't yet considered. "The shareholders!" The large amount of people gathered for the shareholders' meeting right downstairs would end up laying eyes on this. Even if he could clear up this problem with the FBI, if the people outside saw what was going on, he was _definitely_ out of a job.

He rushes out to the veranda right as the swarm of other FBI personnel get to the scene. At this point, he doesn't even bother suppressing the urge to groan.

"Imayoshi, what's going on?" Okamura shoulders his way to the front of the crowd, squaring off against Imayoshi.

"I can explain." _Probably_. "It's just a simple mistake." Before he can clear it up, however, Special Agent Higgins shoves his way in front of Imayoshi.

"Anyone else here involved in the bribe?" He groans internally.

" _Bribe?!_ "

"There was no bribe," Imayoshi says, waving his hands placatingly, but then the head Nigerian official interrupts his attempts at explaining himself yet again.

"I handed this man an envelope containing a cashier's check for two hundred thousand dollars!" _What? That_ definitely _didn't happen—wait._

* * *

 _Kise slides the envelope containing the check off of the table, already beginning to slowly saunter back over to the other side of the table. He pauses for barely a moment in Imayoshi's blind spot, skillfully switching out the envelopes before continuing._ And there's another two hundred thousand for me, _he thinks happily as he hands Imayoshi the envelope that Akashi had prepared beforehand._ And he doesn't suspect a thing.

* * *

"This would look a lot better for you if you didn't deposit that check," Special Agent Higgins says, an almost amused look crossing his stern face. "Do you still have it?"

"I didn't _receive_ a check," Imayoshi reiterates, not sure what else to say.

Another agent comes up to their little confrontation. "Sir, we've got people searching the lab, seizing those files and computers," he reports. Higgins turns away from Imayoshi in favor of discussing this matter further.

"Imayoshi, news crews are here," Okamura says in a low voice, coming up to him. "If they find out—" _I'm sure they already have._

"I'm not sure how much we can do in this situation, but I'll do my best to limit the damage," he whispers back before raising his voice. "Everyone, just relax, and I'll sort all of this out," he says as he backs out of the throng of people, hopefully to retreat back to his office in time to shred all of the important files.

* * *

Akashi leads his team out of the Bering Aerospace building, an FBI jacket draped over his shoulders and two file boxes in his hands. The rest of them are outfitted similarly and all of them calmly walk out of the building in the midst of the chaos that they themselves created.

He smiles to himself at a job well done.

* * *

"I came alone," is the first thing the man standing by the windows says to Akashi as he turns around to face him.

"Yes, I know," Akashi replies as he walks up to the man. "Thank you, Mr. Kasamatsu." _Though I never would have met you at all if I suspected otherwise._ "Now, I understand that your research was completely wiped out," he continues as he joins the brunet by the windows. "I have complete copies on these hard drives," he raises the small, black drawstring bag in his grasp, "as well as absolute proof that they were on Bering Aerospace computers. That should be sufficient for a few lawsuits, yes?"

"I'll drop the investigation against all parties involved with the original theft," the brunet replies, nodding. "No charges on you or your people."

Akashi's lips quirk up in a brief smile at the use of 'your people' before he hands the bag to Kasamatsu. He's already taken a few steps away from the man when his voice bring Akashi to a stop. "Don't you want money?"

He resumes his walking as he replies, "While I won't be so gracious as to deny that offer, this project has a different revenue stream."

* * *

" _In a massive sell-off sparked by multiple federal investigations of Bering Aerospace, the stock plummeted 33% before trading was halted,_ " the TV reporter says succinctly. Imayoshi has half a mind to just turn it off entirely.

When his cell phone rings, he debates just letting it go to voicemail, but by the third trill, it annoys him so much that he puts the device up to his ear. "Yeah?"

" _You should have just paid us._ " The unmistakable voice of Akashi Seijuurou coming through the speakers makes him sit up in shock.

"I found the transmitter."

" _Ah, but you only found the transmitter with the blinking light. We, of course, wanted you to at least figure some of it out. We simply offered you what you were expecting._ "

"I'm Imayoshi Shoichi." He draws himself up. "I will beat this!"

" _And what of the bribe?_ "

Imayoshi scoffs. "That doesn't prove anything. I didn't actually receive any money," he spits out, right as a voice behind him goes, "Bingo." He turns around to see the FBI agents pulling several stacks of money out of who-knows-where. _Just when I thought it couldn't get worse..._

" _Yes, well, that doesn't account for all of it,_ " the redhead continues, apparently having heard the exclamation through the phone. _"Daiki kept a portion to purchase a truly impressive amount of, ah, reading material."_

* * *

"What is it with you and your magazines?" Kise asks as they walk to their designated meeting place. He has a tight grip on Kuroko to make sure that the thief doesn't inadvertently (or intentionally) disappear.

The look that Aomine gives him would make anyone think that the blonde is the one who is strange. " _You're_ the one with a problem."

"If I may interrupt, neither of you may be classified as anything even remotely approaching normal," Kuroko adds in his deadpan voice. He regrets saying anything at all when Kise grips his arm that much harder and laments his woes in a loud voice, cracking in all the appropriate places, complete with rivulets of tears running down his face.

* * *

"See, if a company's stock price falls 10, 15% in one day, one could sell their piece and make quite the bit of money," Akashi explains, strolling leisurely along the bridge. "However, if it falls 30%, you can make _shattering_ amounts of money. We didn't need the FBI to take you to jail. We only needed them to show up and take boxes out of your office. It would scare your investors, watching the whole ordeal filmed for the entire day." He can almost hear the light bulb click in Imayoshi's head. "Your incarceration is merely a… personal reward.

"Oh, and by the way," he adds pleasantly, "if you mention anything concerning us to those FBI agents, we won't be so accommodating next time." He hangs up before Imayoshi can say anything else, walking over to where the rest of his team is gathered.

Midorima has already passed around their checks, handing Akashi his when he arrives at their quaint little circle. He's prepared for a very high number when he sees Kise hyperventilating off to the side, but the exorbitant amount of figures that covers the paper surprises even him. "I am impressed." He raises an eyebrow at Midorima, who fidgets at everyone's astounded stares.

"There was an overlap in the London stock market. One thing led to another and—I'm very good at what I do," he says, pushing his glasses up with a finger. "It's not as if I was concerned for your future or anything."

"Looks like you really are good for something, huh?" Aomine taunts with a grin.

"I suppose this is the end then," Kuroko says. "I'm sure we could all live very comfortably with all of this."

"Hell yeah!" Aomine shouts. "I could buy an island with this money."

"Only Aomine-kun would buy something so ridiculous with his money."

"Hey!" Their argument fades away and they all stare at Akashi expectantly, so he clears his throat.

"It was a pleasure working with all of you," he says formally, tucking the envelope into the inside pocket of his suit.

"No encores," Midorima adds slowly.

"I already forgot all your names," Aomine lies with a frown, his voice lacking the bite that it had the first time.

Akashi nods decisively and they all walk their separate ways.

* * *

He's ambling along the walkway leading out of the park when someone comes up behind him.

"You know, I've never, uh, had that much fun on a job before."

"Go find Tetsuya, if you're so eager for another show," he replies, amused.

"I get distracted sometimes, but you kept me focused," Aomine continues.

"You utilize our skills particularly well," a voice adds from his right.

"Shintarou."

"You want to know what I think?"

"I suppose you'll tell me even if I don't, Ryouta."

"Come on, Akashicchi, you need us too!"

"I'm sincerely touched that you're so invested in my wellbeing, but I believe that I can survive perfectly fine without you."

"Ah, but surviving is not living, Akashi-san." Akashi stops when Kuroko speaks up from a park bench that he could have sworn was empty before. The usually emotionless man walks up to him, lips drawn up in what could almost be identified as a smile. "Let us help you _live_ again. After all, a wolf cannot be surrounded by sheep for very long without causing some amount of disruption."

Akashi looks into the blue eyes of his last teammate and contemplates his future.

* * *

"I'm sorry," a ginger-haired woman gasped through her sobs. Her husband grasps her shoulders in a comforting hug.

"Please, take your time," a blonde man assures, patting her knee gently.

"S-she was seventeen," the woman stammers through her harsh breaths. "Th-they killed her. They said it was an accident, but that company killed her. I want them _hurt_." The blonde man once again pats her on the knee, a sympathetic look on his face.

"Now, we can't pay you," her husband says warily, looking up at the small crowd of people gathered in their sitting room. When they first knocked on the door, both he and his wife were stunned to see not only blonde hair, but red, green, and shades of blue as well.

"Oh, don't worry about that," the blonde says with a slight smile. "We work on an… alternative revenue stream."

"I don't understand," the husband replies, nose wrinkled with confusion. "The judge said what we couldn't appeal. What are you gonna do?"

"People like that," the redhead in the middle states, effortlessly drawing all attention to him. "Corporations like that have all the money, all the power, which they use to make insignificant nuisances like you go away," he continues casually. He feels like he should be offended, but the redhead said it so naturally that he couldn't help but agree. "Right now, I'm sure you're suffering under an enormous weight.

"We provide… leverage."

* * *

 _(A/N: Yes, I did just imply that Kuroko is Akashi's Sophie. Murasakibara will become their getaway guy and an extra hitter, while Momoi is their informant/female grifter.)_


End file.
